Bittersweet
by ASGT and Kat Maximoff
Summary: When death claims all you have left, is it possible to move on? One shot, book five spoilers, rather depressing... Full summary inside so as not to give away spoilers.


**Bittersweet**

**Summary: When Sirius Black is stolen from Remus Lupin for the second time in his life, what can he do to move on? And just how much will he miss his friend after spending so many long years moving on? One shot, rather depressing...**

**Disclaimer: So this these two muffins were chillin' in an oven, right?**

**Yes, it's rather short, and rather random, but I like it.**

The veil fluttered, and Remus Lupin found himself clutching onto Harry Potter as he attempted to run after his godfather. His words sounded empty, even to him. "He can't come back, because he's d-" Harry had interrupted his words.

"He's not dead!" The call rang shrilly in Remus' ears, as if it was a confirmation of every feeling he himself understood to be true. Yet it was true, wasn't it? Sirius was gone. Gone forever. Remus didn't allow himself the time to think about it - he didn't need time to think about it at the moment. That time would come after. He released Harry, who set off to destroy Bellatrix LeStrange. He would never do it, however - Bellatrix was too strong for a full grown wizard to face, let alone a boy. And that's just what Harry was - a boy - a boy who had seen too much.

Ah, but what were you? A voice echoed in the back of Remus' mind. It was true. He had been a boy, a boy who had seen too much and who had lived through torment, a boy who was alone and isolated, not for who he was, but for what he was... a monster. He always would be...

Yet they hadn't seen him as that. He wasn't a monster in their eyes - he was just Remus. James, Sirius and Peter. They had accepted him for what he was. He hadn't wanted to tell them at first, but they figured it out. He was always gone over the full moon; he was always sick the day after. It hadn't taken them long. It was sheer relief when they found out - the moment he had been dreading, yet it was a perfect moment, because they knew and they did not care - no, they cared too much... but about him, not about his illness.

They had sacrificed time, energy, and studies for him. They had practiced - little Peter the most of all - and had become animals with him every full moon. Nothing Remus could do was enough to thank them. Yet they had always insisted that he didn't have to thank them, didn't have to be in debt to them for the rest of his life... but he was. They had saved him... and they were his friends. His true friends - something that the thirteen year old boy had never had before. Yet he did now, with James and Sirius and Peter...

And then it had stopped. They were gone forever to him. Peter, presumed dead. Sirius locked up for life. James, dead, with Lily, the lovely Lily, who had never judged or been cruel to Remus, even when the rest of the world hated him. Remus had lost them all. And for a time, he mourned them. He was alone, friendless and forgotten, a poor werewolf in a small London apartment. He worked a day job at the factory - if you could even call it a job. Remus couldn't get a job, not a real one. He had always known that. Dolores Umbridge had done that for him. And so it was... he grieved, he worked, and once a month, he became a monster. Only this time, the transformations were worse than they ever had been. For years he had depended on his friends for comfort, for companionship, when he transformed. No longer. He was a werewolf, a monster, and he was alone.

Eventually, the wounds healed. It took time - twelve long years of time - but they healed. Remus was finally ready to return to the one place that would consider giving him a real job, the one place he had always felt at home - Hogwarts. When Dumbledore had called on him, the white haired wizard appearing in his kitchen at half past midnight on a Tuesday, Remus was ready. Or was he? Yes, the old cuts had healed over, and he was ready to continue his life. He had no friends, that was the truth. Dumbledore was a mentor, the other teachers he hardly knew, and if he did, they were just that - his teachers. Arriving at Hogwarts, Remus Lupin had entered the halls alone, memories flooding back at him. Yet the old cuts had not opened - why? He did not know. Yet twelve long years of grieving for things lost forever left scars... scars that could not be removed, yet scars that healed over the open wounds that he had felt for so long. Sirius had escaped - was it even possible? But he wasn't Sirius - he never would be again. He was evil, cruel, and heartless - so unlike the Sirius Black Remus had known and loved like a brother.

Remus spent more time with Sirius as he learned the truth - it had been Peter, little Peter who was always behind in his studies, little Peter who Remus had tutored through seven years of potions - it was Peter who had killed Lily and James. And Sirius was back - yet he was a changed man. Remus moved to Sirius' house, to work for the Order, giving up his little flat in London to a nice old couple who would spend the last years of their lives there. Remus felt as though he, too, had spent the last years of his life in that little apartment. It was there that he had gotten the owl - the owl that brought the news of James and Lily and Peter's deaths - or supposed deaths, in Pettigrew's case. It was there that he received the Daily Prophet that

Sirius had been arrested. And it was there that he received the one that Sirius had escaped...

Twelve years of wasting away in prison had changed Sirius for good. Remus didn't have his old friend back - not really, anyway. He had a replacement, a person who looked like Sirius, at least in a recognizable way, who talked like Sirius, and who thought like Sirius. Yet it wasn't him. Remus had spent twelve years forgetting his friend... and he couldn't truly remember him ever again.

When Sirius fell through the veil, Remus didn't feel anything. He was numb. Harry was the one who needed to mourn, to do what Remus had done so long ago. Remus had done his mourning, had wept for Sirius so many times. He was not sad when Sirius fell, when Sirius died. He had lost his best friend once - and now he had lost him again. Remus expected himself to be sad, telling himself that he was a bad person for not crying at Sirius' funeral. Yet Remus Lupin had held a funeral for Sirius so long ago. It hadn't been a ceremony, and there had been no coffin, but in Remus' heart Sirius had been dead for fifteen years.

Remus turned and walked away from the grave, a daffodil falling from his fingers as he wandered through the gravestones. He found himself here again - the only Marauder remaining on the side of good, on the side of light. There had been a momentary glimpse of hope - a chance that things could have come back to what they once were. But it was never really a truth - death was something that Sirius had never feared, had never questioned, and now that he was gone, it seemed as if it was something that had been coming to him for a long time... He was happier now... he was never one to be content at sitting at home, alone and unable to help. Azkaban had changed him too much... he was too far gone. Remus accepted that fact.

Yet as he stopped beside another familiar grave in the same gravesite, he could no longer hold back the tears. The anguish gripped him and Remus Lupin, a werewolf, a man aged beyond his years, sobbed at the food of a double grave, where two bodies lay at rest. None of the Marauders would ever be together again - it was final. There was no more hope. Looking up through tear-filled eyes towards the heavens, Remus Lupin sighed. And there, on a clear night, in front of the grave of Lily and James Potter, Remus Lupin swore that the Dog Star - that Sirius - winked at him. And he knew that he would be alright.


End file.
